Wake-Up Call. Joaquin De Torres
answered Zelda. “But we all saw what Patricia wrote; we all saw what Doogie did in the puzzle room. Javier, you know what he said to you in that park.” She shook her head to clear her thoughts, or at least, reset them. “Look, all I know is that this looks like Dr. Terlaje’s Implantation Theory, and based on that lecture-” she drifted into silence then bit her lip. “He said the implants would most likely be homeless and mentally ill people. So, we’re two for two!”
“Just playing Devil’s Advocate here, Zelda,” I interjected. “But have you considered that they’re probably thousands of scientists out there who think Dr. Terlaje is a crack pot?” She rolled her eyes irritably.
“All geniuses with theories outside the box are thought of as crackpots, but that’s because people are either afraid of new truths, or too stupid to let go of old prejudices.”
I couldn’t help think that the last part was aimed at me. She continued.
“But if Doogie and Patricia are implants, and they’re waking up now, then-”
“A visitation is at hand,” finished Ivana. “We need to find out if there are more people waking up. There’s got to be more of this phenomenon if we’re actually going to place stock in this theory.”
“Do you still have Dr. Terlaje’s number?” I asked.
“Why would I have a crack pot’s number?” Zelda spat, rolling her eyes at me. Then I knew that last part was for me. I chuckled. “I can get that easily enough from his website,” she answered. “He’ll remember me.”
“Good, because we may need him.” This time I was serious as I folded back comfortably into the team.
“What now?” asked Ivana.
“We head back,” I answered. “Doogie’s got an exam to take.”
Chapter 9
Moment of Truth
Doogie sat at the table, looking around the room with his mouth hanging open. Several times he looked at the large rectangular, two-way mirror on the wall, and I swore he could see us. Behind the mirror, Ivana and I watched nervously from the other side. A control panel that worked the room’s hidden cameras and microphones sat in front of her. I sat off to the side with a pen and pad ready to take notes.
Sitting across Doogie was Zelda, with a small stack of generic 8x10 flashcards with photographs of various animals, buildings, nature scenes, etc. imprinted on them. We used these pictures for several types of recognition and recollection exercises for our patients. It was standard procedure to see how far a patient advanced or regressed in a variety of memory therapies. Zelda also had a separate stack of blank cards that she requested with images and markings she drew herself with a large black marker.
“Do you think he looks nervous?” I asked.
“No,” Ivana answered looking at me. “You look nervous.”
“Yeah, well, this is huge.” I looked at her large-windowed smartphone. “Did you call your colleagues already?”
“A few of them, yes, from the other state institutions. They said they’d let me know by the end of the day. How about you?”
“I made a few calls to some clinics and they said they’d check.” I looked at her as she turned her head back to Doogie. I seemed to be unable to conceal my physical attraction to her. I flipped through notes and documents in front of me while allowing myself to admire her. I tried to be inconspicuous as I gazed at her face, following the contour of her profile. Her forehead, nose, lips, and chin were all sharp, as if sculpted with clay and blade. I surveyed the plunge of her long neck, scented alluringly with her Laura Biagiotti fragrance. My eyes wanted to venture about, especially around the curvature of her supple breasts, but I thought I’d only make her uncomfortable, or I’d make a stupid move or statement. I slowly turned back to look at Doogie, but in the corner of my eye I thought I glimpsed a slight smile curl at the corner of her lips.
Zelda pulled back her long hair; thick and shiny like a curtain of black silk, and let it fall down her back. This was our prearranged signal that she was going to begin. Ivana pressed a button to activate the hidden cameras and the microphones. Zelda smiled warmly, while Doogie looked at her doe-eyed and confused.
“How are you, Doogie?”
“G-G-G-G-OO-OO-OO-DDDD!” he yelped out with a smile.
“We’re going to play a game. I’m going to show you some pictures, and you can tell me what they are, okay?” He nodded his head excitedly.
“G-G-G-GA-GA-GA-GAMMMMMEEE!”
“Okay, ready? Here’s the first one.” She flipped the card showing a lion. Doogie’s eyes lit up in recognition.
“T-T-T-I-G-G-G-G-RRRR!” Zelda smiled.
“Close! It’s a lion, but you were very close! How about this one?” She flipped a card showing a dolphin. Again, his eyes lit up.
“F-F-F-FI-SHHHHHHH!”
“Close again, Doogie! It’s a dolphin, but it lives with fish! Very good! How about this one?” She showed a gorilla.
“M-M-M-MON-MON-MON-KEEEEEEE!”
“Very good! And this?”
“D-D-D-D-O-GGGG!”
“Right! You’re doing great!”
We saw Doogie’s joy and excitement as he prepared for each picture with wild anticipation. I found myself cheering for him with each one he got right, clenching my fist, and whispering “YES!” as if I was watching my favorite tennis player hit winners. Then I noticed that Ivana was looking at me. Our eyes met, and our lips both curled into admiring smiles. I was tempted to lean forward and kiss her. I don’t know why, but I didn’t feel she’d resist. She, too, was glancing at my lips.
“B-B-B-BIRRR-DDD!” Our heads snapped back to the glass quickly, assuming our professional poses.
“Great, Doogie!” Zelda encouraged with a large smile. Doogie bounced in his chair like a child, lolling his head in all directions happily. “I have some other pictures about nature I’d like to show you, okay? How about this one?”
“F-F-F-FRR-O-WWWRRRRR!”
“Great! And this one?”
“T-T-T-TREEEEEE!”
“And this one?”
“M-M-M-O-O-OWW-T-T-T-TINNNNN!”
“And this one?”
Doogie hesitated. His smile dropped suddenly and his eyes widened. Zelda canted the photo towards the mirror so we could see it. She quickly glanced at us. The photo showed the Moon.
“It’s the Moon,” Doogie said in his perfect voice.
“Here we go,” I whispered as my shoulders and neck tensed up. We both leaned a little closer to the glass and speakers. Zelda dropped her smile and went into exam mode, masking all previous emotion.
“Doogie, what is the distance between the Earth and the Moon?”
“The moon is 221,463 miles from Earth at its perigee; 251,968 miles at its apogee.”
I swallowed hard, remembering how the same clear voice spoke that late afternoon in the park. Zelda showed a photo of the Sun.
“The Sun,” stated Doogie. “It is 92,955,887.6 miles away.”
“And at its farthest point from Earth?”
“Aphelion distance is 94.4 million miles from Earth.”
“And at its nearest point?”
“Perihelion distance is 91.3 million miles from Earth.”
“My God!” Ivana exhaled. Zelda held up a photo that looked like a snapshot